


All or Nothing

by littlelavendeer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Ballet AU, M/M, Rival AU, Rivalry, Slow Burn, anyway prepare for ANGST bc i love PAIN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelavendeer/pseuds/littlelavendeer
Summary: Yuri on Ice ballet au!! Victor Nikiforov is in line to be the lead in his ballet company's next big performance. A guest from overseas makes a surprise appearance and shatters Victor's dream. What could result from this new rivalry?





	1. New Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so so excited to bring this story to you all. I grew up with dance and I just KNEW I had to make a ballet academy AU. Please forgive me if it seems uncreative, I mean no harm and I certainly don't mean to tread on any toes if this has already been done. 
> 
> ANYWAY, i don't have plans just yet on how long this fic will be. ALSO, this is only my second fic ever published and my first multi-chapter fic, so any comments, criticism, suggestions, etc are welcome! I'd love to hear from you <3
> 
> -littlelavendeer

A soft, warm glow emanates from the top of the darkened staircase, peeking out from underneath a velvet curtain. The light reflects off the fallen bits of sequins, long since left behind. Together they create a miniature night sky upon the stairs. Inhale -- Smooth the wrinkles, tuck the stray hairs. Exhale -- Climb the twinkling steps, follow the light. Suddenly, music. It grows louder with each step, the notes more distinct, the cheers of the crowd now audible. At the top, the glow is welcoming, now pulsing in time like a heartbeat. Inhale -- sweep the curtain to the side. Exhale --

Awake. 

Victor hesitantly opened one eye to check the time. A large, red 5:45 glared back at him. He quickly buried his face back into his pillow.

A lazy hand reached out to tap the snooze button before Victor buried it back underneath the comforter. 

Right as he was just about to drift back off to sleep, a veritable projectile was launched at his head.

“C’mon, old man. Rise and shine.” 

And in that moment, had he been more awake, Victor would have put Yuri Plisetsky to shame in a pillow jousting tournament. Today, however, he let it slide.

He slowly swung his feet over the side of his bed and tucked his feet into the nearby slippers. With a yawn and a stretch, he grumbled his complaints to the nearby blond. Yuri had woken quite a bit earlier and was already dressed in his warmups. 

“The coffee is still hot, Gramps.”

Victor glared at him without retort. He was NOT prepared for this level of sass this early in the morning.

He poured himself a cup and wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic. Slowly, quietly, he finished his drink and ate his breakfast. A second cup was poured into his travel mug -- he’d need it on the way over to practice. 

Both Victor and Yuri attended the Bolshoi Ballet Academy. The world-renowned company had been their home for the past five years. Despite the well-known routine, Victor had the hardest time tearing himself away from the cozy clutches of sleep, especially during the middle of winter. The bed was far too warm and the floor was far too cold to even think about trading the confines of his fortress of blankets for the wooden floor and brisk air.

After some more bickering and a quick change of clothing, Victor was suited and ready to go, with Yuri leading the way. 

\--

The duo’s pace quickened as they neared the entryway to the Academy. The promise of warmth and solace from the snowy streets was enough to fully rouse Victor from his early-morning fog. 

Yuri was the first to reach the door. He swung it open, and in a gesture of great grandeur, he bowed to Victor.

“Your kingdom awaits, Your Slowness.”

Victor’s scowl crept back onto his face. He made sure to take extra effort in brushing off the snow from his jacket, in hopes some of it would land on Yuri’s clothing. Upon seeing his friend’s face shrivel up as some of the snow made its way onto his neck, Victor’s face instantly gained back its amiability. He let out a hearty laugh and made his way past the grumbling Yuri.

Both men shed their soggy outer layers and made their way to the first class of the day. Warmups were thankfully relatively tame, compared to the hours of rehearsal that followed. 

Victor set down his bag and made his way to the center of the floor to stretch. Yuri was known to put in his earbuds and drown out the outside noise, but Victor cherished it. He loved hearing the rest of the dancers greet each other as they made their way into the dance room; the idle chatter put his mind at ease. The pianist’s first keystrokes were soothing as if the musician was grounding Victor’s mind and preparing him for the day. 

As he began his short, individual warm up, Victor noticed the conversations in the room seemed to be unusually loud, forming more of a buzz and less of the hum he enjoyed. His battement en croix was interrupted as Instructor Baranovskaya entered. She swung her arms open as she announced, “We have a special surprise for this upcoming season!” The buzzing stopped as everyone focused on Baranovskaya. “For our production of The Nutcracker, we have collaborated with the National Ballet of Japan based in Tokyo. This year, the role of the Nutcracker will be filled by one of their top dancers.” The small crowd of dancers clapped, whoops and hollers and general excitement filled the room. 

She let the noise die down before continuing, this time in English. “Please welcome our Guest Artist, Yuuri Katsuki!”

With these words, Baranovskaya motioned for the figure outside the doorway to come in. The Guest Artist bowed upon his entry, then hesitantly waved. Everything about him exuded nervous energy. 

The crowd lunged forward to greet the new addition, leaving Victor behind. A deep frown creased his forehead. After years of climbing the ballet hierarchy, he was certain this year he would be made a principal dancer and take the lead. All of his hard work, all of his dedication, was made meaningless in less than a moment. 

Finally, Victor made his way to the crowd. He made his way through the maze to stop in front of this great “Guest Artist.” He smoothed his hair and stuck his hand out.

His voice neared threatening as he spat out,  
“Welcome to Bolshoi.”


	2. Unwelcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is NOT happy with the turn of events. LET THE RIVALRY COMMENCE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I hope you're enjoying the fic so far. I wanted to post both chp. 1 and 2 together to get a solid start to the story goin'... ya feel me?
> 
> Let me know if you'd like ballet definitions in these notes in the future. 
> 
> Chp. two alt. title: Are you ready for pain? ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

“Welcome to Bolshoi.”

Victor’s voice carried an uncharacteristic bitterness in it. The tone surprised him; he was unaccustomed to hearing such negativity pour from his own lips. He steeled himself for retaliation, but nothing came.

The Guest Artist merely shook his hand silently and dismissed himself from the crowd to find an isolated corner of the room. Victor wasn’t sure if he was thankful for the lack of confrontation or angry that the man blew him off so nonchalantly. He didn’t have time to dwell on the encounter for long. Instructor Baranovskaya clapped her hands, indicating that the warm-up was to resume. The pianist resumed his playing and the dancers took their places scattered around the room.

Victor cast a glance at Yuri. The blond simply shrugged and returned his focus to his développé. 

At the conclusion of the stretch block, the group moved to the barres. Victor eyed the foreigner on his way to his usual spot in the front. This Yuuri Katsuki was lean but muscular. At first glance, it was easy to underestimate his strength. He carried himself with grace on the dance floor but lacked the confidence to continue the illusion literally anywhere else. “Amateur,” Victor thought to himself.

\-- 

“And five, six, seven, eight!” 

Baranovskaya clapped to mark time, signaling the start of the combination across the floor. The combinations were relentless. All of them, fast-paced and complex surely in hopes of impressing the newcomer. 

The line of dancers performed the choreography to the best of their ability, despite the sweat that poured off their foreheads and their tired limbs betraying their bodies. 

The instructor’s voice rang out. “Again!” 

The group trotted back over and repeated the combination. To their dismay, this second attempt was worse than the first.

“Can no one meet my standards? Vitya! Yuri! Up front.”

The two looked at each other and nodded in sync. A sudden fire was lit in Victor’s gut, fueled by determination and showmanship. This was his chance to show up his competitor. Victor slowed his breathing and took his position. He knew Baranovskaya’s choreography, he knew her nuances and her preferences. Yes, this combo put even his strength to the test, but he came out victorious. 

“Excellent! Next!” 

The last row of dancers appeared, with Yuuri among them. Victor crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He sneered, “Let’s see if he can top that.”

The other dancers couldn’t keep up with Yuuri. His leaps and jumps carried him farther than what the others were capable of, and his performance of the choreography was spotless.

This class erupted in applause at the conclusion of the piece. A few “bravos” were exclaimed, with Baranovskaya’s being the most energetic. “Surely we have been humbled by your expertise, Mr. Katsuki. I implore you all to learn from him while we have him here! He is most certainly a resource. Class dismissed!” 

\--

The next 5 hours of rehearsal were grueling. Each instructor met Yuuri with the same exclamations of adoration. They all practically had stars in their pupils and made sure to let the rest of the class know just how wonderful this Nutcracker was going to be. Victor nearly gagged.

“I could see that eye roll from across the room. Are you sure you didn’t sprain something, stupid?” Yuri’s comment made Victor grit his teeth. He stared down at his boots, feigning focus on the laces. They were the last two in their row of the locker room and could speak openly for the first time all day. “Look, I know how disappointed you are but there’s no reason to go around making a fool of yourself. So the lead is gone, whatever. There’s plenty of other major roles and you know it. C’mon. You’re better than this pettiness, Victor.”

Victor suddenly slammed his fist into the locker beside him. Yuri jumped, surprised at the outburst. “Don’t test me, Yuri. Not now.” 

“Victor, I just want--”

“I said not now. I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

With that, he grabbed his bag and jacket and left without another word.


	3. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor relies on drink to console himself and has a confrontation with Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might bump the rating up to teen & up for language.

Victor wasn’t an avid drinker. He hated the way the scent of alcohol clung to everything, and hangovers at a dance rehearsal sounded basically equivalent to torture. 

And yet, there he was, on his seventh drink at the local pub.

Was this his way of coping? Definitely. Was it the healthy choice? Probably not. 

He stared down at the clear liquid remaining in his cup. Tears pricked his eyes. Throughout Victor’s ballet career, he’d faced dozens of obstacles. Dance as a career is a tough lifestyle. But he’d faced failure before, he’d faced adversity and become stronger for it. Rejections, injuries, so on and so forth, and each time he had come out on top. But after years of dedication and years of hoping that maybe this next year would be different, he found himself finally crumbling under the pressure. Now, certainly, most of this pressure was self-inflicted. Victor had always pushed himself to stand out and be the very best he could be. But a big part of his motivation came from his desire to impress. He wanted to surpass the expectations of his peers as well. 

In his time as a dancer, he’d found that he often needed reassurance, and could get it in the form of praise. From his coaches, from his Academy, from his fans; he’d take whatever ounce of it he could get. He put his soul into everything he performed. But now it felt like none of it mattered anymore. No matter how much effort he put into his art, it was never enough and he felt as though he didn’t have anything left to give. He felt hollow. A stray tear made its way down his cheek as he continued to reflect. He almost didn’t notice the noisy party that crashed its way through the front door.

A group of dancers from the Academy had coerced their new friend to go out for drinks in celebration of his starring role. Seeing their smiles and witnessing their celebration made Victor feel even worse. He paid his tab and tried to escape unnoticed by gathering his things and darting away as fast as drunkenly possible. In his haste, he miscalculated his current ability to maintain his balance and he hit the floor. Hard.

Heat rose to his cheeks. The blush made everything feel too warm. The eyes of everyone in the bar were on the collapsed heap of a man. He clawed desperately around for anything to help pull himself up. His hands latched onto something solid. He was too focused on regaining his footing to notice that he had chosen a hand to steady himself. He looked up to see the face of Yuuri Katsuki gazing down at him with -- was that pity? -- before hurling the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

Yuri crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back. His touch made Victor’s skin crawl. He tried swatting Yuuri’s hand away but toppled over once more. Again he returned to Victor’s side, this time with a hand on Victor’s shoulder and the other around his wrist to prevent him from slipping. 

His lips curled.

“I don’t need your help.” Victor’s voice was thick with alcohol and venom. 

Yuuri stood, calmly loosening his grip but never releasing his hold entirely.

“I said--”

“I heard what you said. But I’m choosing to ignore it. At this point, I don’t think you could safely make it home and I--”

Victor took a depth breath before looking straight into Yuuri’s eyes. 

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

Yuuri sighed and let his hands drop. Victor angrily pushed past him and the onlookers that had gathered. 

Once outside, he let the falling snow sting his cheeks. The cold bit at his nose and mouth. Each inhalation felt sharp and labored. 

He stumbled away from the bar. Miraculously, he found his way to a taxi and endured the bumpy ride home.

\-- 

Sunlight spread across Victor’s face. 

The blinding brightness sent pain shooting through his skull. He opened one eye just enough to rummage through his bedside table for his pain relievers. He popped two aspirin into his mouth and took a swig out of his water bottle. 

He felt as if Satan himself decided to jackhammer the insides of his brain. Lazily he rolled onto his side, holding up a hand to shield himself from the sun. 

Just then, he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had woken with the sun. He checked the clock. Midafternoon.

“Congratulations, jackass. You slept through morning block,” he mentally scolded his idiocracy. The events of the night before came rushing back to him. He buried his face in his hands. 

“Fuck.”


	4. Unexpected Encounters

For the remainder of the afternoon, he had suffered through relentless waves of nausea and a constant mental battle over whether or not he should even show his face in class. An overwhelming sense of regret settled inside him. The alcohol had loosened his lips and fueled his anger. He recalled Yuuri’s concern, the hands on his shoulders, the way he had utterly recoiled from Yuuri’s touch, and Yuuri’s solemn expression after his outburst. God, he felt awful.

The sun had begun its descent by the time Victor managed to haul himself to Bolshoi. He knew he had to set things right, even if it meant facing Yuuri’s indignation and Baranovskaya’s fury. 

Victor prepared himself as he opened the door to the Academy. He spotted Instructor Baranovskaya gathering her things, a sure sign that her classes had ended.

“To be early is to be on time, Mr. Nikiforov. To be on time is to be late. To be late is unacceptable. But this?” Here she gestured to him with the ballet shoes in her hand. “This is something else, Victor.”

Victor bowed his head as he replied, “Please forgive me, Lilia. I swear, it was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

She pressed her lips into a firm line. “See to it that it doesn’t.” Her voice softened as she continued, “Victor, you have talent. I simply request that it does not become spoiled.”

He nodded, thankful that the scolding was light. Quickly he made his way to the remainder of the rehearsal.

\--

“Have a good evening, everyone. Great work today,” boomed Instructor Feltsman. The class curtsied in response, the formal ending to a day of hard work. 

Victor clung to the side of the room, waiting. The cluster of dancers finally began trickling out of the studio. Victor decided to take a chance and followed after Yuuri. His back was to Victor when he approached. Gingerly, Victor tapped the man’s shoulder.

“Look… I think we should talk.”

Yuuri made no move to turn around. “I see you’re feeling better,” was the simple response.

“Uh, well yeah, but... I actually came over to apologize. I was careless and stupid and very, very drunk and I wanted to smooth things over and I--”

“Apology accepted.”

“--wanted to make sure you, wait, what? Really? Why?”

“Like you said, you were careless and stupid. I get it.”

“And drunk. I was drunk.”

“Yeah. See you ‘round Victor.”

Victor stood motionless. What the hell was that? Dumbfounded, he merely remained where he was, trying to process the conversation. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts when a punch hit full-force into his bicep. 

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking??” A scowl was scribbled on Yuri’s features. “What time did you even come home last night? Mila said she saw the whole thing, practically the whole cast knows by now. What the hell, man?!”

“Ow.”

“Ow? That’s all you have to say?” Yuri struck him again, although lighter this time.

Victor rubbed his arm and put on his best Please Have Mercy expression.

“Okay, okay, I’m an idiot. I’ll explain everything on the way home.”

\--

The next week went by without incident. The rest of the ballet company had received their parts. Yuri and Mila were cast together as the primary Spanish dancers and were set for a duet that displayed their strengths. Victor, on the other hand, was cast as the villain of the performance: the Rat King. Days of endless choreography sessions, show rehearsals, technique classes and conditioning went by. Victor was so focused on redemption that being second best didn’t carry the same burden it did before. Steadily, he tried to make amends for the damage he had done. 

Despite all this, he felt things with Yuuri were still off. There was a certain tension between them whenever the two were together. Conversations were brief and restrained. Wanting the best for the company, Victor felt he needed to clear the air entirely if they were to move on properly.

Victor had heard rumors that Yuuri practiced individually before the day’s rehearsals began. Today, Victor thought he would see if the rumor was true. If he found Yuuri there, he would most likely be alone and more willing to converse. If he wasn’t, Victor figured that he would take advantage of the empty space instead. Win-win, right?

Once he arrived at Bolshoi, Victor quietly made his way through the hall, listening for any sounds that suggested someone else was in the building. Faintly, music could be heard. Victor followed the sound and eventually found the source. Bingo!

Victor did not wish to disturb Yuuri mid-song so he waited. When waiting became boring, curiosity took over. Slowly, Victor peeked inside the studio. Yuuri had traded his typical rehearsal attire of a simple shirt and tights for just some socks and spandex shorts. Sweat glistened over his torso. The lean muscles rippled as he practiced each leap, jump, and turn. Victor tried glancing away, afraid of being discovered, but his eyes were fixed on the man in front of him. Without the pressure of performing for his surrogate dance company, Yuuri looked more relaxed and confident than ever before. By the end of the segment, Victor was utterly bewitched. He had never given Yuuri much credit before, but now it was impossible to deny that Yuuri was indeed the best dancer at Bolshoi. It was a humbling experience.

Victor waited outside the door, as he tried to collect his thoughts. Yuuri’s practice ended earlier than Victor had anticipated and Yuuri was still unaware of Victor’s presence; when Yuuri finally exited the studio, both men jumped. Both men also turned a lovely shade of scarlet: Victor for have been caught intruding, and Yuuri for his sheer lack of clothing. He had put on sweatpants but felt exposed nonetheless (Victor couldn’t help but stare, though he’d never admit it).

The first thing Victor could think to say came out as a squeak. Yuuri squinted at the unintelligible English.

Victor rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly as he repeated his question: “Breakfast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty folks, i have a question for you all. now i had originally intended this to stay pretty mild as far as rating. but, at this point i could go either way.
> 
> would you prefer i left the rating at T or should i consider adding mature content?  
> please leave your answers below!


	5. Gray Skies

Yuuri and Victor walked side by side in silence. They had left the warmth of the dance studio for the promise of hot coffee and a hearty breakfast. The first streaks of light had just begun to peak over the horizon; the light reflected off the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the streets. The soft crunching of snow underfoot was all that could be heard.

Yuuri had surprised Victor by accepting his offer. Mentally, Victor noted this was the second time Yuuri had surprised him today, and the day had hardly started. He looked over at Yuuri while he continued to muse over the odd turn of events the day had taken. A green tartan scarf was wrapped around his neck. The cold air had turned his nose quite red, despite his attempts to keep it warm by burying his face into the material. Snowflakes clung to strands of the black hair that poked out underneath the beanie. A small smile pulled at the corner of Victor’s mouth. He hadn’t realized Yuuri wore glasses outside of practice, but they were now slick with little drops of water.

Slowly, they traveled onward. 

\--

The men were seated in a corner booth near the windows. Finally, Yuuri broke the silence. “If I may ask, what were you doing in the studio so early?”

“I was trying to find you, actually. I had heard you practice alone in the mornings.” Victor brought a cup of coffee to his lips and savored the instant heat it brought to his core.

“But why?”

Victor sighed. “I was a fool. I thought an apology would clear the air between us, but I know now that I’ve made it impossible for other people to be around me. It seems I’ve rather made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

Yuuri avoided Victor’s eyes. 

“To think I had been so rude to you! I saw you this morning, Yuuri. You really are an incredible dancer. There’s no doubt in my mind that you deserve every bit of the admiration you’ve received here.”

Victor expected to see a positive reaction from Yuuri after this praise, but his head was down. Yuuri’s shoulders began to shake, muffled sobs escaped his lips. 

A look of horror flashed across Victor’s face. He quickly began stammering out an apology. “Oh! Oh no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! I’m glad you have the lead, honest!”

Still no response. “Yuuri, I’m sorry! I’ve gone and hurt you again!”

“Victor, you don’t understand.” His voice was quiet. After a few moments more, he looked up. A deep sadness had darkened Yuuri’s eyes. It was now that Victor saw how utterly exhausted he looked.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Yuuri. I’m trying. Please, please help me understand. What can I do to fix what I’ve done? I hate that I’ve hurt you. Please help me understand.”

“It isn’t you, Victor.” Yuuri wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he continued. “I’ve trained for almost all my life. I’ve loved dance for as long as I can remember. I can’t tell you the number of hours of practice I’ve put in, or how many classes I’ve taken, or the number of performances I’ve done. And yet, when I came here, I realized that Bolshoi gave the lead to someone so undeserving.” His voice wavered and the tears began to stream down his face once more. “I feel as though I’ve stolen something precious that I can’t return.”

Victor couldn’t bear the look of agony on Yuuri’s face. He looked so distraught, so lost in his own anxieties, that Victor had to rush to his side. He placed a hand on Yuuri’s and knelt in front of him.

“Yuuri, please listen to me. I have never seen someone with as much talent as you. I can see how hard you work yourself. All of those hours, they’ve proven your dedication to this art! I know how much pressure you’re under, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to have been thrown into a new production by a foreign dance academy. But I want you to know that I am here for you. From here on out, I want to help you. I’m so sorry that you feel the way you do. I want to support you in whatever way I can.”

Yuuri pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. It seemed as though Yuuri was finally releasing all of the emotions he had been trying to ignore. Victor sat with him until the tears finally came to an end. He handed Yuuri a napkin. Once his face was cleaned up, Victor held out a hand to him. 

“Friends?”

Yuuri shook his hand as he spoke, “Friends.”

\--

For the first time since Yuuri had arrived at Bolshoi, the tension at the studio was nonexistent. 

Victor was relieved he was able to meet with Yuuri when he did. He feared that if Yuuri had kept the emotions bottled up for much longer, he would have burst. Victor shivered at the thought.

After their breakfast, the two had agreed to start meeting together in the morning a few times a week. With Victor as the villain and Yuuri as the lead, the two had to solidify their duet. But, it also gave Victor a chance to check up periodically on Yuuri’s health. At least, that’s what he would tell anyone that asked. The one on one time with the star of the show certainly didn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being patient with this update! i hope it was worth the wait!!


End file.
